Photo by Rebecca Cairns. Source
Dear Liberal Feminism,
I did everything you told me to.
I was independent.
I was sassy, feisty and spunky. Not like the worn-out women of yore who were oppressed because they just didn’t have enough spirit, because they just didn’t stand up for themselves enough.
I talked things out. I discussed, negotiated and set boundaries.
I was fun in bed. Not like those prudey manhating radical feminists.
I was a special snowflake. I was quirky. I was weird and wonderful. If I could just be unique enough, I would find the magic combination that would open the door to a free, fulfilling life. So I snowflaked all over the fucking place.
Guess what?
Men still walked all over me!
Men still abused, harassed, exploited and assaulted me. And they all got away with it.
It’s almost like they are part of a system where they get the advantage in everything while everyone pretends that we’re all equal.
Being unique and special, caretaking everyone’s emotions, and setting up a Byzantine system of boundaries didn’t help me at all. That darn male-dominated society is still oppressing me right now!
Liberal feminism, I want my money back.
Exiled Stardust 
Now here I sit, waiting for the Liberal feminism to respond. Probably waiting for awhile won’t I.
Liberal feminism: “Dear M.K., No refunds; all sales are final. Love, Liberal Feminism. P.S. Your calling out menz on their misogyny is driving them all away.”
That was quick. Their response, seemed a tad sour grape-ish. They should get you to write their material.
They should. And they should compensate me lavishly.